


Something New

by rosssaliie



Category: High School Musical (Movies), IT (2017)
Genre: F/M, M/M, lots and lots of fluff, the softest, very soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-03-05 16:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13391784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosssaliie/pseuds/rosssaliie
Summary: Bill and Stan never intended to become friends. They lived in different world of high school, and liked it that way. But they're thrown together and soon learn that change can spark the best times in life.





	1. Chapter 1

A ski lodge wasn’t where Stan  _ or  _ Bill had planned on spending their Christmas break. It was unexpected for both of them, but sure enough, as soon as school was out, both boys were being dragged by their families to a lodge upstate. They didn’t go together, of course. In what universe does Stan Uris hang out with Bill Denbrough? Yet here they were, at the same lodge for the same week, at the same cliche teen party happening in the lobby. What are the odds. 

Stan was curled up on a chair in the corner, a new bird book perched on his lap and a box of Good & Plenty in hand. The music was blasting around him, and the shrill voices of the kids on stage were a nuisance to Stan’s ears. He was comfortable, though, as those around him were leaving him be and the vacation was almost over. If he could just get through these next three days without an incident, he’d be back home and able to move on with his life. He turned the page and let his eyes go wide as he read about the next bird.

Bill was across the room, sipping a soda and letting his eyes fly around the room. He spotted one kid who seemed familiar; he had loose, curly hair that was golden brown and hanging in front of his face. As others passed in front of the boy, he watched his head come up, and the two locked eyes. Bill stared at him with wonder, as it felt like he’d only seen this boy in passing, when he’d like to spend hours on end looking at him. As fast as the instant happened, it was over, and Bill was forced to turn his attention to the stage as another set of kids was ushered up the stairs. 

The emcee gave them each a microphone and gestured to the screens hanging above them. “Alright, let’s give it up for these brave kids!” He patted them on the back, and with a smug smirk on his face, left them alone on stage.

Bill sighed, thankful that he wasn’t one of those unfortunate souls. He began circling the perimeter of the room, kindly smiling at those he passed. It was in his nature, he liked to think, to smile. And now that his brother was with them, home safely, he had every reason to smile. Georgie was only nine years old, and had been missing for the first week of December. Thankfully, he turned up and was fine, but it shook up the entire Denbrough family. That was why they were here; they all just wanted to get away from the situation, and start the new year off right. 

Stan stood up and made the several foot journey to the trash can, leaving his book on his seat with a bookmark folded between the pages. He neatly threw his trash inside, pulling his arms tightly to his sides to avoid running into people. A huge wave of kids flooded in from the outside, stomping off snow from their boots, and simultaneously blocking Stanley’s path back to his spot. Groaning, he began moving in the other direction in hopes of looping all the way around. He wasn’t interested in making any new friends, which is what his parents had intended this trip to be for in the first place. He just wanted to go home, read his books, and help Ben with his writing. 

As the song came to a close and applause erupted from everywhere in the room, Bill pushed a hand through his hair. This wasn’t exactly his idea of fun. He was a track runner - and a good one at that - not a singer. His dad was pushing him extremely hard to be prepared for their upcoming season, which would start when they returned to school. It was basically his whole life, training for meets and winning them. As soon as the clock hit midnight, he was booking back to his hotel room to sleep. 

Stan caught a glimpse of that boy - Bill - the one who was staring at him earlier. They were headed towards each other, however unintentionally, and he suddenly realized they’d never properly talked. They were nearing the end of their junior year at Derry Creek High School, and even attended the same middle school, but not once had they spoken unless forced. The problem wasn’t that they didn’t get along. Their social circles were just completely different. 

Bill, a track runner who was semi-popular and had countless friends. 

Stan, a quiet bird-watcher who hung out with the same person and hardly ever got out. 

As he was thinking about it, Stan saw a bright spotlight shone right into his eyes, and then felt hands on his back. Nevermind that he didn’t know these people, but why were they pushing him? The noises in the room were all jumbled together, but a few words made sense to him. 

“Come on up”, “don’t worry”, “watch the screens”, were some of the phrases Bill could make out through all the shouting and shoving. He was handed a mic, patted on the shoulder, and left on stage, with Stanley Uris. He had finally recognized him as his biology partner from their sophomore year dissection. He wanted to lean over and ask him what was going on, but as the music started to play and words appeared on the screens above them, it didn’t take long for him to guess. 

The song was called “Something New”. He’d heard it once or twice before on the radio, so it wasn’t too hard as he started singing the first part. Awkwardly, he stood stiff in front of the microphone. He was getting warmer under all the lights that focused on them. 

_ Living in my own world, didn't understand _

_ That anything can happen _

He cleared his throat and sang the last line of his part. “ _ When you take a chance… _ ” Immediately, he turned to find the stairs off the stage. Bill wanted nothing to do with being up there. 

Stan watched as Bill turned away, not blaming him for wanting to leave. But as the music built, something inside him told him to breathe and go for it. “ _ I never believed in what I couldn’t see _ ,” he nervously sang, wrapping his arms around his midsection to be more secure. 

_ I never opened my heart to all the possibilities _

_ I know that something has changed _

_ Never felt this way _

_ And right here, tonight _

As he continued following the karaoke, the somewhat stranger next to him joined back in. 

_ This could be the start of something new _

_ It feels so right to be here with you, oh _

_ And now, looking in your eyes _

_ I feel in my heart the start of something new _

“ _ Now, who’d have ever thought that we’d both be here tonight? _ ” Bill stripped off the jacket he was still wearing. He smiled at Stan, trying to make him feel more comfortable. It was odd though; he didn’t know why he decided to stay on the stage and sing. Maybe it was the urge to have fun for once while he was on this godforsaken vacation. Maybe he wanted to prolong his time away from his hardass father and his responsibilities. 

Or maybe it was the unexpectedly beautiful voice that came from his partner. 

_ And the world looks so much brighter  _

_ Oh, with you by my side  _

Stan let his arms fall to his sides, adapting to the faster pace of the song. The smile Bill gave him was comforting, so he passed one back, hoping he didn’t look too awkward. When he looked into Bill’s eyes, all he could focus on was him and the song. Nothing else seemed to be around them. There was no crowd or lights or snow. He could feel the lines of the song narrating their time in the spotlight together. Everything was better now that they were together, and it was definitely something new. He didn’t want his happiness to end. 

The crowd was now gathered completely around the small stage watching them. Bill removed the mic from its stand so that he could move closer to Stanley. “ _ I never knew that it could happen till it happened to me! _ ” He made a silly face at his partner, getting a laugh, and also began doing his version of a dance. He didn’t know, logically, what he was doing. But in the moment, it felt right. He was having fun, with a pretty boy and relatively good music. He watched as Stan also removed his mic and also started dancing very badly. 

_ I didn't know it before, but now it's easy to see _

_ It’s the start of something new _

They faced each other in the middle of the stage, reaching the bridge of the song. “ _ I feel in my heart, that it’s the start _ ,” they harmonized. On the beat, Stan watched as Bill moved closer and closer to him. Not knowing what to do, he took a few steps too many backwards, nearly slipping off the ledge. His hand was caught by none other than Bill himself, who kept Stan level and on his feet as they continued. 

“ _ The start of something new… _ ” came the last line. Whistles, cheers, and claps sounded from all around them. Stan smiled shyly, feeling himself turn slightly red. They each remounted their microphones as the emcee arrived on stage. 

Bill tapped Stanley’s shoulder, catching before he could run off. “Hey, y-you were r-really good!” He could feel that his eyes were wide with amazement and intrigue. 

Stan turned to face Bill when he spoke, but kept moving off stage to make room for the next pair of kids. He motioned for Bill to follow him, scurrying back to the chair he had claimed earlier. He was relieved to see that his book had not moved. 

“I- I didn’t know you c- could sing,” the stuttering boy continued. He was at Stan’s heels, eager to listen to him more, whether it was speaking or singing. 

Stan sighed pleasantly, snatching his book and turning to Bill. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said, letting slip a bit of sass in his voice. “But that was…” he shrugged, “kind of fun.” He stretched himself into his coat that hung on the back of the chair. “See ya at school.” He turned towards the door to leave, even though something inside wanted him to stay. 

“Wait!” Bill followed.  _ Why was it so important for him to talk to Stan?  _

Stan stopped at the door, his eyes walking up and down Bill’s form. “Look, Willia-” 

“Bill.” 

With a nod, he continued and moved outside. “Bill. We don’t know each other. You don’t need to pretend like we’re friends just because of what happened.” He scratched the side of his head, ruffling some snow out of his hair. 

Bill shrugged, shivering slightly without the jacket he’d taken off. “Wuh-Well, what if I do. Want t-to know y-you.” He swallowed hard as he gazed into Stan’s hazel eyes. He was insanely nervous about what his response would be. But he  _ had _ to know more about him. For all he knew, Stan was a quiet, bird-obsessed boy. Seeing him come out of his shell, however, made Bill curious to learn more about him. When he hadn’t expected was the shortness of Stan’s reply. 

“Why?”

Trying to come up with an excuse that  _ didn’t _ make him sound like a total sap or stalker, he said, “Could be fun.” His smile was lopsided and goofy - genuine. 

Stan bit his lip, bouncing his leg in thought.  This was new to him; he’d always had his friend, Ben, around. He didn’t even remember meeting him - they were just together. But _him?_ _Friends with Bill Denbrough?_ Impossible. 

Or maybe not. 

He gave a curt nod and pulled out his phone. “Alright, Bill. Fun.” He handed the device to his new companion. “Number.” 

Letting his grin spread wider, Denbrough turned it on and punched in his digits. Simultaneously, he took his own cell from his pocket. “You too.” 

Stanley reciprocated the favor, giving a suspicious, but still excited, look. “Okay then.” He cleared his throat and shook his head, clearing a weird thought from his mind. “Uh, so… I’ll text you?” 

Bill nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Yeah, sounds good, S-Stan.” 

With a small smile, Stan reclaimed his phone, gave Bill his, and offered a wave. “See you around, then.” He turned on his heel and walked off in the direction of his lodge. He was glad Bill couldn’t see his face, because he was definitely blushing. 


	2. Chapter 2

Over the three days left of vacation, Bill and Stan did end up talking a lot. Late night texts and hour long phone conversations let them learn more about each other than they’d ever known. As it turned out, they were pretty good at being friends. And, although Stan would never admit it, Bill was right about it being fun. 

The winter break came to an end, though. Bill and his family left early on the morning of the fourth, driving down from northern Maine to their hometown of Derry. He had hoped to see Stan at least one more time before their departure, but he wasn’t that lucky. He sent the boy a goodbye text at 9:00 A.M., but didn’t get a response.  _ He must be sleeping _ , Bill told himself. It hurt more than it should, though, which confused him. So, he told himself he’d let it go, and planned on tracking him down at school, on their first day back. 

Bill hopped off the bus stairs, tugging the zipper of his coat over his face. The biting air of January was harsh, but it didn’t stop his best friend, Richie, from nearly tackling him as a welcome. A clamber of shouts and groans came from them, slipping a bunch on the icy pathway up to the front doors. The boy righted himself and the trashmouth as they entered the school. “Jeez, Ruh-Rich! Calm down a b-bit, wou-ould ya?” He chuckled as they walked down the bustling hallway, squeezing their way through the crowds of teens. 

“Nuh-uh!” Richie replied loudly. Wherever Richie Tozier went, he always attracted attention. He had a head of black curls that looked like a pile of silly string, and thickly framed glasses that gave him bug eyes. “No can do, my friend! Practice for the season starts after school today. And we have to make  _ sure _ the team is in perfect shape.” He slung his arm around Bill’s shoulder, swinging them to the right and subsequently placing them in front of their side-by-side lockers. “Mike’s been training a lot during break, but I doubt the rest of the team has. Our first meet is in two weeks, and it’s gonna be a qualifier for the semi-finals in a month and a half-” 

“Richie!” Bill interrupted, yanking his locker door open. He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and gestured to his locker. “Calm d-down and g-grab your stuff. We can t-t-talk about practice luh-later.” Truth be told, Bill didn’t want to talk about practice at all. He  _ wanted _ to talk about the incredible friend he met over vacation, the one with the amazing voice and hair like a morning sunrise. He wanted to tell Richie all about Stan and their time together - but that would involve the karaoke, and he wasn’t sure how his friend would feel about that. “Let’s go to ho-homeroom.” 

Rich shook his head and starting turning in his combination. “Nah, you go. I’ve gotta grab my shit and bring a note to the office. I’ll meet you there.” He cracked open the door and shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the hook inside. 

Bill rolled his eyes, but grabbed his binder for English and walked off further down the hall. He was reviewing the schedule that he’d taped to the front of the binder, when a flash of familiar sharp features and curly hair pass by him. He whipped his head around to see who it was, and sure enough, there he was. Stanley Uris. 

It seemed as if Stan didn’t notice him, with earbuds in and a book in front of him. He easily wove through the path of students around him, somehow navigating his way to his homeroom without even needing to look up. 

Bill stood there momentarily, in the middle of the hall, kids passing him and bumping his shoulder. He stared at the back of Stan’s head, a small smile creeping up on his face. After looking in the direction of his homeroom, and then back, he took off in Stan’s direction. He was too far behind to call out to him, so he figured it would just be easier to text him. The final bell for homeroom rung. “Crap,” he cursed under his breath. He was going to be late, but if he was careful, he could avoid any teachers. 

Stan turned a corner into his classroom and took his seat in the front row. He continued reading, but took out one of his earbuds, so that he could listen to the teacher deliver the daily announcements. 

Bill stood outside the room, hiding against the wall of the door jam. He stuffed his binder under his arm and opened the text conversation he had with Stan. The last message in the chat was Stan saying goodnight, which he had sent the night before, in response to Bill’s good morning. He typed out a short message of  _ excited to be back? _ and hit send. 

Inside, the ringer on Stan’s phone went off. Hurriedly and face turning ever-so-red, he pulled it from his pocket and shut it off. Still, meeting the gaze of his teacher, he sighed dejectedly. 

“You know the rules, Stanley. Phones are supposed to be on silent,” he said in a harsh voice. “You can join the detention crew after school. In the theatre.” 

Stan nodded and returned his phone to its place.

Bill grimaced, feeling guilty for getting Stan in trouble. He took one last peek inside, and for moment, he swore Stan saw him. Whether or not he did, Bill took off for his own class. It was just down the hall, so if he didn’t run into any teachers, he’d be in the- 

“Bill Denbrough.”

-clear. 

As expected, Bill got detention. The teacher gave him two passes: one to make it to his homeroom in one piece, and another to remind him about detention. So at three o’clock on the dot, he walked into their school’s oddly large performance theatre. People could say what they would about Derry Creek’s budgeting, but no one could deny that they had one of the nicest theatres in the county - possibly even the state. 

There was a piano sitting in the bottom left hand corner of the stage, with a red-haired girl at the bench. Her back was to him and she was playing through a few notes repeatedly. Towards the center, there was a short woman with glasses hanging around her neck and blonde hair twisted into a messy bun. Several kids were crowded around her, listening intently to whatever instructions she was giving them. Other students were milling in the first two rows of seats. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice rang out from behind. Stan had appeared, a knapsack slung across his body and a book in hand. He always seemed to be reading. “You got me here, you know? Your  _ text _ .” 

Bill cringed at the somewhat spiteful way the words left his mouth. 

“My first detention ever.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “At least I get to spend time with you, though.” As soon as he said it, he hoped that Bill didn’t notice what he meant by it. He started walking down the aisle, Bill following him. “They’re auditioning today - those students. Mrs. Kanaan was talking about it in Stage Literature.” He looked at Bill from the corner of his eye, and he received a confused expression. 

“You have a… a class with Mrs. K- Kanaan?” He dropped his bag in a third row seat. 

Stan followed suit. “No. My teacher asked her to come in a few days before break to talk about Shakespeare, and she had mentioned it coming up. She knows her stuff.” He shoved his hair back with one hand and made his way up on stage. 

“Ah! My young helpers, I presume!” Mrs. Kanaan had a lot of energy in her voice. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, especially given her job. But for Bill and Stan, who were usually mellow, it was a shock. When the boys nodded in response, she pointed them towards a small office just off stage. “If you don’t mind, grab the stacks of papers from that back office? I’ll need you to hand them out to the actors while they warm up.” Without another word, she shooed them off and went to the pianist. 

The pair walked off as they were told, and found the two piles she was referring to. One was a small packet of lines from the show, but not the entire script. The other had the first verse and chorus for one of the songs. 

“I can t-take the music if you wuh-want.” Bill scooped up the papers before Stan could object, passing him the same smile he had during karaoke. He chuckled, sweeping his eyes quickly around the room. There were several awards from festivals on the shelves, as well as a few posters from the schools previous shows. 

“Bill?” Stan tried to get his attention, but he almost didn’t want to. Watching him admire the accomplishments that surrounded them was… in a way, beautiful. He smiled softly, staring at Bill’s face. He knew it couldn’t last, though, so with a bite of his lip, he bumped his shoulder against his friends. “Come on.” 

The actors were in three rows, all facing out. The redhead was playing a scale and letting the kids warm up to it. She spotted the two boys and gestured to the auditionees, mouthing  _ Hand them out _ in their direction. She shook her head in annoyance, but continued playing. 

After a moment of coordinating the order of distributing their respective papers, Bill started at the front of the group, while Stan started at the back. 

The blonde girl on the end closest to the piano was watching Bill, tugging her hair into a half ponytail as she sung. A coy smile snuck onto her face, and when she was handed her music, she grazed her fingers over the back of Bill’s hand. “Nice to see you back, Bill,” she whispered. “I missed you.” 

Uncomfortably, Bill cleared his throat and tried to give her a polite smile. “N-Nice to see you, G-Greta.” He slipped away before she could keep him there any longer. As he moved to the second row, he saw Stan’s face harden. He tried to catch his eye, but Stan wouldn’t look at him. Bill frowned and felt a pit drop in his stomach. 

The sound of a hand clap pulled him out of his trance. “Okay, students! Let’s get to work!” Mrs. Kanaan called from the audience. “If my lovely detention boys could come to the house. And we will start with,” she checked the list on her clipboard and grinned proudly, “Greta and Eddie. Let’s set the bar high, shall we?”

A sigh rippled through the other auditionees. Everyone knew who Greta and Eddie were - the power duo of the theatre world. Their parents were friends for years, so when both of them were born, they two were automatically best friends. Throughout elementary and middle school, Greta protected Eddie from the kids who picked on him, and as her social status rose, so did his. They were best friends, despite her common bad attitude towards others, and were hardly ever apart. They starred in every musical, one act, and improv gig together, and were major shoe-ins for the lead roles. Their good relationship with Mrs. Kanaan put them at the forefront of her casting choices. 

Bill and Stan handed out the last of the papers, then joined the teacher in the seats. Red curtains were pulled closed across the stage. The faint noise of the pianist talking to the guy named Eddie could be heard from the seats. 

“You didn’t tell me the key you need,” she said, slightly harsher than Stan would have expected her to sound. 

The small boy turned to her sympathetically. “Sorry, we had an arrangement pre-recorded.” With that, he walked off behind the curtain. 

An upbeat piano tune started and, after a few beats, the curtains whipped open. 

_ It's hard to believe that I couldn't see _

_ You were always there beside me _

Greta was holding a bedazzled pink microphone, and strutted around on stage in a pair of hot pink over-the-knee boots. She never failed to have a sense of style, proven by her wearing black tights under a fuzzy long sleeved dress that matched the color of her shoes. “ _ Thought I was alone, with no one to hold, _ ” she sang, with a voice that wasn’t actually half bad. Through the theatre experience she had, she’d learned how to be more talented. 

“ _ But you were always right beside me, _ ” Eddie followed. He was a sharp dresser, even for musical auditions. He had the sleeves of his button up rolled past his elbows, and sported black slacks as well. Despite how much he tried to look older, it never worked. He was shorter and all-around tinier than the other guys in his grade. 

_ I've never had someone that knows me like you do _

_ The way you do _

_ I've never had someone as good for me as you _

_ No one like you _

Stan peeked at Bill out of the corner of his left eye, only to find that he was looking back. He darted his eyes forward, but readjusted himself in his seat so that he was leaning closer to Bill. Their shoulders were pressed together, and neither of them moved to change it. 

The duet continued,  _ So good to be seen, so good to be heard; don't have to say a word! For so long I was lost, so good to be found, I'm loving having you around _

Stan turned his head slightly, catching Bill’s hand in his line of sight. It was resting openly on the arm of the chair, every muscle in it relaxed. Slowly, Stan crept his left hand up, gently placing it next to Bill’s.

_ This feeling's like no other _

_ I want you to know _

Bill watched as Stan lifted his hand and carefully wove their fingers together. He didn’t go too quickly, scared of making a wrong move, but eventually they had their hands in each others. They smiled shyly at each other, both of them trying to hold it back and hide their feelings. Neither succeeded. 

_ What I've been looking for _

As the last line of the song rang out through the theatre, a door slammed open. Everyone shot out of their seats and spun around to find the source of the noise. Bill saw him first, and pulled his hand from Stan’s. 

There, standing in the doorway with his face red as a beet, was Coach Denbrough. 


	3. Chapter 3

The sharp blow of a whistle signaled the end of practice. Bill, leading the team, started a light jog around the gym. He could feel the eyes of his father boring into the back of his skull. Coach Denbrough was a known hardass, and his interruption of the theatre auditions was an embarrassment. Bill didn’t even look at Stan before grabbing his bag and bolting out the door. He wished he could’ve just disappeared, then and there, no questions asked.

“I’m just saying,” Richie’s voice loudly interrupted his train of thought, “why were you so late? You’ve been looking forward to this meet more than any of us. You’ve been training _harder_ than any of us.”

“Your point?” Bill asked, his tone flat and uncaring. He looked to his right and rolled his eyes at his friend.

“His point,” Mike Hanlon, Bill and Richie’s mutual friend, cut in, “is that we’re worried about you. First, you come back from break with absolutely _no_ stories to tell. _Then_ , you’re late to homeroom. And _now_ , you’re missing one of the most important practices!”

Bill couldn’t manage a believable excuse, so instead he pushed himself faster, picking up the pace of the whole team. He thought about Stan, and what he should say to him at their next encounter… or if there should even _be_ a next encounter.

* * *

 

Stan huffed as he sat down in the seat across from Ben. His friend already had books spread over the library table, half of them open and the other half bookmarked. Stan doesn’t even think twice about the amount of literature there is; it was an all too common occurrence to find Ben in the library.

“You’re late, Stan,” Ben chided, but in such a voice that you wouldn’t know he was upset. He closed the book that was in front of him, which was titled _The History of Literature_ , and suddenly Stan remember exactly why they had planned to meet in the library in the first place. As he sat down, he dropped his head in his hands, and then onto the table.

“Our English project… the one due-”

“In a week! Stan, we agreed that if we didn’t do any work over break, we would spend every day after school working on it.” Ben slid the rubric for their assignment in front of Stan, tapping the column with a _4_ above it. “We need to ace it, dude, seeing as it is 30% of our final grade.” After a moment, he could tell his friend was well aware of their situation. He gestured to the open and unmarked books, and said, “These are the ones we have left. If you want, we can split the workload for tonight, and just take them home. It’s easier, and probably smarter, than killing ourselves in here for the next few hours.”

Slowly, Stan lifted his eyes to Ben’s kind face. He smiled, almost cautiously, and grabbed three of the books from the pile. “You’re too nice, Ben. I really am sorry.” With a wave, Stan rushed out of the library. A small, hopeful piece of his heart thought that if he moved fast enough, he could catch Bill on his way out of the gym. It was nearly four, so the track practice would just barely be ending.

And then, as if fate was against him, he walked straight into a girl coming out of the theatre. They both fell in a flurry of sheet music and pencils. A string of curses left her mouth, and with a heavy sigh, she ran a hand through her short, red hair. “Watch where you’re going, dude!” The girl scrambled to organize the papers in front of her, trying to determine their order. “Oh, man, Mrs. K is gonna _kill_ me if I dont get these to her _now_.”

Realizing what had happened, Stan moved to help her, noting the page numbers and doing his best to give them to the girl accordingly. “I’m really sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going, I’m just… in a rush…” Finally, the two songs she had been carrying were together, and Stan stood as he grabbed the bundle of pencils. “I’m Stan.”

The girl eyed him up and down, a questioning look on her face. After a moment, she extended her hand confidently. “Beverly! You can call me Bev. Nice to meet ya, Stan.” They shook, and she leaned up against the open door of the theatre. “You were at the beginning of auditions, weren’t you?”

He nodded a reply, slightly embarrassed about being seen at detention. But Bev didn’t seem to care about his scholarly reputation at all.

“Gross, that means you saw Greta and Eddie perform. They’ve been leads in our shows since they were freshmen, and _still_ have not seemed to learn my name.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “And they completely ruined my song! That’s not how it’s supposed to sound _at all_ … I wish I could hear it done right at least once.”

Footsteps and sneaker squeaks signaled the approach of someone else, and when Stan looked over to meet their eyes, he saw that it was Bill. His face immediately reddened.

“S-Stan!” Bill greeted eagerly. Though he had previously doubted if he should talk to Stan again, seeing him made him feel different. His face made Bill… happy, to put it simply. And why shouldn’t he be happy?

“Hey Bill,” he replied, the corners of his mouth slowly twitching upward into a smile. “Uh… Bill, this is Beverly.” He gestured to his new friend in an attempt to be polite. “Bev is the pianist for the show.”

Upon seeing Bill, Beverly remembered that he was also present at auditions. “I was just telling Stan that I wish I could play my piece properly before seeing Eddie and Greta butcher it ever show night.” Her eyes quickly flitted between Bill and Stan, the cogs in her head turning and coming up with what she considered to be a brilliant plan. “Could I hear you two sing it?”

Stan and Bill’s automatic reaction was _no_. “We’re not singers!” “We don’t even know the song!” “I have homework to do!” were their responses. But it was as if history was repeating itself. Bev had ushered them inside the theatre and onto the stage next to the piano. She laid out the sheet music so that they could read the words, and, after shooting a seemingly harmless text, began playing. They get further than Greta and Eddie had earlier, exploring more of the song per Bev’s pleas.

_So good to be seen, so good to be heard_

_Don't have to say a word_

The lyrics bring an even wider smile to Stan’s face, the words hitting him deeper than expected. He truly did feel like he knew Bill on a non-verbal level, like he just knew how to be himself without having to worry.

_For so long I was lost, so good to be found_

_I'm loving having you around_

As Bill sang that line, he turned to face Stan and linked their hands together as the notes continued. He knew that if he wanted to spend more time with Stan, he couldn’t hold back with how he felt.

Beverly ended the piece and smiled up at them. The sound of a slow clap came from behind them, causing all three students to turn around. Standing in the middle of the aisle was Mrs. Kanaan, with a canvas bag slung over her shoulder.

“That was quite impressive, boys! I’d enjoy to hear you again. Beverly, please give them the callback piece and work on it with them, if you would.” She smiled and waved, taking her leave.

Before either kid could respond, they were suddenly swept into the world of prepping for their callback. And, for the life of them, they couldn’t decide if it was a mistake or not.

* * *

 

Greta and Eddie had talked all night about how proud they were of their audition. Both of them knew a callback was in the bag, and a casting would not be far behind. Friday morning was a tense car ride to school and a rush to get inside to check the bulletin board in the lobby. They were the first ones at the doors when they opened. Their names were the first ones on the board. But as Greta looked at the second line of text, she let out a shriek that could probably be heard across town. Underneath _Lead Role Callbacks,_ four names were listed, two pairs. Greta Keene and Eddie Kaspbrak; Bill Denbrough and Stan Uris.

   



End file.
